11 Seconds
by Little Halo
Summary: It didn’t matter that his car, his baby was wrecked or that he had a 1 inch gash across his forehead. All that mattered is that 11 seconds ago Sammy was sitting in the car next to him and now he wasn’t. Sam was hurt and Dean had no evil spirt to blame
1. Chapter 1

**Summery**: **It didn't matter that his car, his baby was wrecked, it didn't matter that he had a one inch gash going across his forehead. All that mattered is that 11 seconds ago Sammy was sitting in the car next to him, and now he wasn't because he wasn't wearing his seat belt.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural**

**11 Seconds**

11 had always been the Winchester's number. It took the firefighters 11 minutes to put out the fire. John cried for 11 days after the death of his wife. When the boys were little and John went on a hunt if he didn't come back within 11 days Dean was suppose to call Bobby. 11 had always been the Winchester's number. It only took 11 seconds . . .

Dean tapped the steering wheel to the metallica song that blasted though the speakers of the Impala. He rolled his eyes at the cheerleaders giggling, trying to get his attention from a few feet away. He was so over High School girls. He graduated 2 years ago (if you do the math, he's 19 which would make Sam 15), best day of his life knowing that he wouldn't have to waste his life there anymore. He didn't do the ceremony of course. He was too cool for that.

He was here now to pick up Sammy from school. John left this morning when he found reasonable evidence of a hunt. Dean was ordered to pick up Sam and meet John in Newport about 4 hours away it was some little town up in the mountains. "Come on Sammy." Dean said impatiently. Finally Dean saw his little brother exit the school. His backpack stuffed with so many books Dean was surprised that his tall scrawny form was still standing upright. The cheerleaders looked surprised to see Sam walk over to the car and roughly pull open the back door and shoved his stuff in, then proceeded to the front seat slamming the door. "Whoa easy tiger," Dean said smirking.

Sam shot him an angry look, before slumping down in his seat and staring straight ahead. "And your still mad, you're such a baby sometimes Sammy!" Dean said rolling his eyes and starting up the car.

"It's Sam." Sam said before turning up the Metallica music. Dean had to keep both hands on the wheel to keep from sliding on the January ice. He stole a glance at Sam who seemed to be lost in his own world staring out the window. He hadn't said a word in 2 hours.

"Sam." He didn't respond. Dean then resorted to turning off the blasting music. This seemed to catch Sam's attention and he looked up briefly. "Sam say something, anything, you can even yell at me if you want." Dean said sighing.

"11 weeks." Sam said quietly. "I've been at this school for 11 freaking weeks and this morning Dad waltzes in and says that we're moving again and you think I wouldn't be mad?" Sam said angrily.

"Oh so again everything has to be about you, about leaving your new friends and how you have such abusive life." Deans said harshly. He'd gotten to distract and the car slid on the ice a bit.

"Forget it." San huffed going back to staring out the window.

"No I'm not gonna forget it Sammy, this happens every single time." Dean said tightening his grip on the wheel.

"It's Sam." Sam said again. He really hated being called his baby name. "I don't have any friends anyhow." He said again sliding down in his seat.

"Whoa backup you _always_ make friends." Dean said surprised.

"And you _never _made friends in High School so what." Sam said shrugging.

"I'm not you Sam." Dean said now getting angry

"Dad wishes I were you." Sam mumbled.

"You're really getting on my nerves, all you think about is yourself. Do you even know how many lives Dad saves and all you can think of is changing schools? You're such a selfish little brat.

_Second 1 . . . _

"Dad can't plan my future out! It doesn't work like that! He never asked me if I wanted to hunt!"

_Second 2 . . . _

"He shouldn't have to ask! You know what's out there!" Dean was yelling now.

"No matter how many things we kill they're always be more!"

_Second 3 . . . _

"Were saving lives so other families don't end up like ours!"

"Our family didn't have to be like this! Dad chose it to be like this!"

_Second 4 . . . _

Dean had lost interest in the road, staring at Sam with narrowed eyes.

_Second 5 . . . _

"What you expected Dad to just go on living life after what he saw! What I saw!" Dean yelled.

"You didn't see anything, I've heard the story a hundred times!" Sam spat back.

"Yeah I was too busy carrying you out of our burning house!"

_Second 6 . . . _

"If Dad hadn't been so preoccupied with you then maybe he could've saved Mom!"

_Second 7 . . ._

He knew he made a mistake by the look on Sam's face.

_Second 8 . . . _

"Sammy . . ."

_Second 9 . . . _

Dean looked back at the road, and slammed on the breaks as a deer ran out into the road.

_Second 10 . . ._

The impala slid on the ice underneath it, spinning out of control. It rammed though the guardrail down the shallow hill.

_Second 11 . . ._

Dean groaned bringing his hand to his head. He felt something sticky. He leaned against the head rest one hand pressed firmly against his forehead.

"Sammy you ok?" He said in a raspy voice. "Sam?" he said after a moment's silence. He shifted his body around avoiding movement of his neck just in case.

Dean's breath got caught in his throat. Sam's seat was empty and the front windshield was shattered.

**A/N: Ok that's the first chapter, hope you like it. Please review. Sorry but I was a little off with the seconds in there but I had to make a little something happen between each one. I'll say it again Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

11 Seconds

Chapter 2

It didn't matter that his car, his baby was wrecked. It didn't matter that head felt like it was going to explode, and the gash just wouldn't stop bleeding. All that mattered was 11 seconds ago Sammy was sitting in the car next to him, and now he wasn't.

Dean's eyes seemed to be glued on the glass scattered on the dashboard, Glass and blood. He didn't want to put all the clues together in his head. Sammy gone, broken glass, no windshield, and blood, Sammy's blood. His aching head couldn't take it.

_Dean looked back at the road, and slammed on the breaks as a deer ran out into the road. The impala slid on the ice underneath it, spinning out of control. It rammed though the guardrail down the shallow hill. Dean was thrown up against the steering wheel. Dean whipped his head over to Sam who threw his hands up protecting his face. The car suddenly jerked to a stop and Sam couldn't stop his body from flying out of his seat. Sam was thrown forward into the windshield._

He could feel himself hyperventilating. He could barley pull the doors handle with his hands shaking so badly. Using the car to support his weight, Dean wiped his hand over his forehead keeping the blood form obscuring his vision. His head couldn't seem to focus on anything, he was sure he had a concussion. His head pounded right along with his heartbeat

The headlights stretched across the rough forest terrain. The temperature dropped dramatically with nightfall. And that's when his heart stopped. There was Sammy. Dean never felt this kind of fear before in his entire life of hunting. The pure terror racing though his body, and ripping at his heart was overwhelming. "Sammy!" Dean yelled. Before he knew it, his legs moved on their own and he found himself running full speed to his brother.

Sam was facing away from Dean on his side. "Oh God . . ." Dean said reaching Sam's side. He once again wiped the blood form his forehead. Dean dropped to his knees placing his hand on Sam shoulder. For a second he just squeezed his brother's forearm to make sure he was really there. Dean shook Sam's shoulder. "Sammy?" Dean flinched when his voice cracked violently. There was no response. Dean carefully placed his hands under Sam's head and waist carefully bringing him to his back. Dean pulled his hand from under Sam's head holding close to his face to identify the sticky substance. He hiccupped in attempts to control his emotions enough to at least think clearly, it didn't work. Dean's eyes became watery placing Sam's head in his lap.

His baby brother, who he vowed to protect, was lying in front of his clearly broken. "Sammy." Dean said again hunching over the teen as if protecting him from some invisible outside force. Dean legs were numb from kneeing in the snow. Then he thought of how cold Sam must be. Dean quickly took off his leather jacket laying it over his brother. Dean's head was getting foggy and found great difficulty doing something as simple as pulling his phone form his Jean pocket and dialing 911.

"911 what's your emergency?" Came a woman's voice on the other end.

"I . . . err . . . me and my brother, car accident." was all Dean's brain could think of.

"Sir are you hurt?" She said.

"Me? No, well yes my brother he's worse!" Dean said running his hand though his hair, keeping the other hand on the side of Sam's face. "He went though the windshield," Dean said franticly looking down at Sam again." He won't wake up, why won't he wake up!" Dean wasn't really aware of the woman on the other end of the phone talking to him.

"Sir where are you . . . hello sir are you there?" Dean discarded the phone not having the energy to talk anymore. He told her enough, they would just trace the call.

He was freezing, but Dean didn't move from his spot. He rhythmically stroked Sam's hair finding if comforting for himself and probably Sam too. Sam groaned suddenly making Dean Jump. "Sammy its ok, stay still." He whispered tears coming to his eyes again. Sam's eyes opened slightly staring up at Dean with such pain that the salty water in his eyes overflowed sending tears down his face.

Sam's eyes slowly fell again.

"Hear that Sammy," Dean said "their gonna help you." dean said brushing the hair form his forehead. The sound of sirens filled his ears. Sam shivered in response. "it's ok Sammy, everything is gonna be ok" Dean whispered hoping that what he had just said was true.

**A/N: well there you go chapter 2 hope you like it, please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ok here you are chapter 3 sorry for the wait. Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural.**

**I do however own the character Dr. O; He's actually based on a real doctor. He's the one who took care of me in the emergency room two weeks back when I hurt my hand. And I seriously can't pronounce his last name it's freakishly long! Anywho Thanks Dr. O**

**11 Seconds**

**Chapter 3**

_Watch out for Sammy_

Dean found himself with 5 stitches and a mild concussion. Sam was still in surgery. All Dean could do was sit there on the same bed they brought him in on. Sam was in surgery and Dean had a concussion. The clipboard with the medical sheet on it still sat next to him on the bed. It took 11 minutes to get to the hospital. He counted every second. There were 4 words that wouldn't stop running though his head.

Watch out for Sammy 

They were the words he lived by, the word he grew up with. That was the last thing Dad would say before leaving for a hunt_. "Guns by the door, don't leave for anything, remember to salt the doors and windows_, _Watch out for Sammy._"

Dean for the first time in his life defied his father, because he didn't watch out for Sammy. Dean could feel burning of tears behind his eyes. Sam was hurt, and it was his fault. Dean looked up when sensing someone standing in the doorway. It was a doctor; he was tall with dark hair and light blue eyes.

Dean studied him cautiously. The man gave him a reassuring smile. "Hello there I'm Dr. O, I could tell you my full name but most healthy people can't make sense of it, I can't expect a concussion victim too" He said with that came warm smile. Dean continued his disapproving stare. Dr. O was wearing a typical white coat and there was a clipboard down at his side. He came into the room, and Dean tensed. "I just want to check up on that concussion of yours." Dr. O said walking up to him. He took a flashlight out of his pocket and shined it in Dean's eyes. "Can you tell me your name?" He asked. It didn't even register in Dean's head to lie, or say a name that was written on his many credit cards.

"Dean Winchester." He said quietly.

"Dean how old are you?"

"19"

"Ok Dean I'm your brother's . . ." That's all he had to say for Dean to interrupt.

"How's Sammy is he alright!" Dean said jumping to his feet. He marked that as a bad idea and immediately sat back down on the bed placing his hand over the white bandage on his forehead.

"I'm not going to lie to you Dean," He didn't like conversations that started with that. "Your brother, Sammy,"

"Sam." Dean corrected; No one was going to call him Sammy except Dean himself.

"Sam is not doing so good." Mr. O said. Dean's breath hitched. "His arm left arm is badly broken in 3 places. He has 2 cracked ribs both on the left side as well." He stopped and for a second Dean thought he was done. Before the relief of the minor injuries could wash over him Dr. O sighed. It was a 'bad news' sigh. He wasn't finished. "He has a severe concussion, and one of his ribs punctured his left lung, which led for it to partially collapse. Everything in surgery went well, we were able to repair much of the damage,"

Dean's eyes were annoyingly getting wet and blurry again. "He's in ICU,"

"When can I see him?" Dean said suddenly. He was surprised how small and week his voice sounded.

"Dean I need you to understand what you're going to see." Dr. O said. Dean hated when adults thought they had to treat him like a child.

"He's my little brother, I've seen it all!" Dean said a little more forcefully that necessary. Dean got up form the bed ignoring the dizziness.

"At the moment your brother isn't breathing on his own!" Dr. O said jus as Dean reached the door. Dr. O saw the young man freeze.

"What?" Dean said. There was that small shaky voice again.

"We have him hooked up to a ventilator" Dr. O said.

"I want to see him." Dean said. Dr. O nodded.

"Follow me,"

* * *

All Dean could do was stand in the doorway. The person lying in that bed didn't look like his little brother. This person didn't have the same warm presence that Sam did.

Dean was afraid to approach Sam. He was hooked up to so many machines, which were beeping and making odd noises. That's not why Dean was afraid though. Dean was afraid that if he got to close he would hurt Sammy more.

Sam's left arm was in a long white cast that extended all the way past his elbow. There were visible gashes on his face and arms form the glass of the windshield. His was skin was an unnatural white color. His hair was bent out of position by the bandages wrapped around his head Dean watched as Sam chest rose mechanically. It was too much; it was all too much to take in.

Dean stumbled form the hospital room finding it increasingly harder to breathe.

* * *

John Winchester paced the small motel room. It contained 2 queen beds, a small table and to chairs, and a mini refrigerator. There was also a small bathroom on the far side of the room barley large enough to turn fully around in a circle. 

His phone rang and he made a dive for the nightstand.

"Hello?"

"Dad?"

"Dean where are you, You should've been here 2 hours ago!" John yelled into the phone.

"Dad?" Dean said again. His voice cracked into the phone. John tensed immediately. "Son what is it? What's wrong!"

"Dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't protect him. It's all my fault Dad! It's all my fault!" John's eyes widened in horror. His eldest son was on the other end of the phone line crying. Something was not right here. Dean didn't cry. He never cried for anything. Dean could have the worst injury imaginable and he would muster up a wise crack or sarcastic remark and laugh it off. He always did.

"Dean where's Sammy." John said as sternly as possible. He heard a muffled whine.

"I'm sorry!" Dean sobbed again.

"Dean let me talk to Sammy!" This time it was an order.

"I can't, I couldn't protect him, I couldn't, Dad Sammy's not breathing on his own. It's my fault!" Dean was hysterical.

John sat frozen on the bed. Dean couldn't have possibly said what John thought he said. "Dean Calm down and let me talk to your brother!" John said. He had a sudden churning in his stomach

"Dad please, I need you, please." That was something else Dean never did. Beg. Dean never begged. Another sign that something was terribly wrong. Why wouldn't Dean let him talk to Sammy?

"Dad I'm sorry, The car slid on the ice I lost control. And Sammy he just . . ." Dean's sentence was interrupted with sobs. John began to piece things together.

"Dean where's Sammy," John asked his voice filled with more terror than he realize.

"R-room 209, G-Gaels county hospital."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok I finished this chapter like a week ago, I was so pround of myself and just couldn't wait to post it for all you out there. I don't know if it was just me but whenever I tried uploadind a document it said that there was some kind of error. oh well it's working now. Hope you enjoy this chapter! and if you have the time please review!**

**which brings me to another point, I'd like to thank everyone who review on the last chapter!**

**Disclainer: blah blah blah I do not own supernatural moving on**

**11 seconds**

**Chapter 4**

As years go by I race the clock with you 

_But if you died right now, you'd know that I'd die too_

_You remind me of the times when I knew who I was_

_And still the second hand will, like it always does_

_**--"Until the day I die" story of the year--**_

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean looked up to find a rather young looking nurse staring at him. "There are police who would like to ask you a few questions." She said giving him a pity smile. Dean looked to the two policemen standing behind her, one of them was a middle-aged black man, and the other was a white woman in her late 30s.

"Leave me alone." He mumbled.

"It's standard procedure for car accidents." The woman policemen said. The young nurse nodded and headed back to the front. They wasted no time and started asking.

"Name?" The black policemen said officer Brazen according to his badge.

"Dean Winchester, Like the rifle." Dean said quietly. Officer Brazen quickly scribbled on his notepad.

"Age?" He said again.

"19" Dean answered simply.

"Son, have you had anything to drink tonight?" Dean's head snapped up. Is that what they thought?

"No!" Dean said forcefully.

"Are you sure?" The woman officer asked.

"Damn right I'm sure." Dean said in a low voice.

"It's a standard question." The woman, Officer Frederick asked. Dean stood up suddenly pointing to the room down the hall. Sam's room.

"That's my little brother in there!" he almost shouted. "My little brother is in that room hooked up to a freakin machine because he isn't breathing on his own and you ask me if I've had anything to drink!" By now he was shouting. Officer Brazen backed off. Dean found the annoying stinging pain back in his head was back and he was beginning to feel dizzy. He wanted to yell some more at the officer for accusing something so ridiculous but his legs betrayed him and he sat back down in the uncomfortable plastic chair holding his head. "Freakin concussion." He muttered angrily, flinching when he put too much pressure on the bandage.

"Dean!" Dean looked up at the voice.

"Dad?" Dean questioned; he leaned to the side peering past the officers.

John Winchester roughly pushed the 2 officers aside kneeling next to his eldest son. John attention immediately went to Dean's head. John grabbed his chin turning his head so he could examine it easier.

"Mr. Winchester?" John turned to Officer Brazen.

"What?" He asked roughly.

"We'll pick this up later," Officer Frederick said kindly eyeing her partner. Dean watched as they walked down the hallway and around the corner.

"Dean!" John said sternly. Dean brought his gaze back to his father. Dean's red eyes stunned John. His eldest son never showed his emotions in such an extreme manner. Dean just stared back at him. "Son, tell me what happened." Dean choked out a small sob.

"It's my fault." Dean muttered quietly.

"Dean," John said. "Look at me" He stated tilting up Dean's chin. He was met with watery hazel eyes.

"I didn't mean to, the stupid deer, and the ice. The car just spun out of control. There was nothing I could . . . and then Sammy wasn't in the car . . ."

John tried his best to make sense of Dean muttering. "Sam wasn't in the car? Where he go?" John asked cautiously. Dean's eyes grew wide like he was reliving the exact moment in his head.

"The windshield was broken and Sammy wasn't there. The glass had his blood on it, He wasn't there, he was gone." Dean had gone into a panic. John grabbed his son's shoulders.

"Dean. Dean it's ok you're safe now." Dean looked into his eyes with wide terrified eyes reminding John of 4-year-old Dean. John understood what happened, and he would never get the image out of his head.

"Dean, I'm gonna go see Sammy now." He said sternly. Dean as venerable as a 4-year-old john would have to be careful and treat him like one. Dean nodded vacantly, John was sure he hadn't heard a word.

John had never seen Dean more out of it, and to tell the truth he didn't understand any of it at all. Sam had been hurt many times while in hunts and Dean never reacted like this. He continued to make his way over to the nurses station. When Sam got hurt on a hunt whatever it was that hurt was as good as dead. Dean always made sure of that because if you messed with Sammy you messed with Dean too, and dean isn't the one to play nice.

John remembered a similar situation. A few years back when some kid threatened to beat Sam up. John was furious when he got a call from saying that Dean was being suspended from school for starting a fight. He may have been mad, but John was also proud of his oldest son for standing up for his little brother. This got him thinking. Dean never lost his head in a hunt when Sammy got hurt, but this time Sammy got hurt and Dean had no evil spirit to blame. There was nothing or no one to blame but himself.

"May I help you sir?" The young nurse asked for the second time.

"I'm looking for my son." John said looking up and down the hallway absently.

"Name?" The nurse said typing on the computer with long fake red nails.

"Samuel Winchester."

"Room 209" She said quite lazily. John turned form the desk and walked away without another word. He found room 209 just down the hall form where Dean was sitting. The door to the room was open. His eyes immediately traveled to the tube inserted in his son's throat. It was at that moment with all the monsters and demons he had seen in all his years of hunting he was quite sure he had never seen something so terribly horrifying.

The thought of that tube and how it was the only thing that was keeping his youngest son breathing shook the man more than anything ever had.

**A/N: poor guilt-ridden Dean! and while were at it poor Sammy!! Please review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ok here you go chapter 5, I really hope you like it. If you have the chance reviews are greatly appreciated. Now go on read it.**

**11 seconds **

**Chapter 5**

_ The thought of that tube and how it was the only thing that was keeping his youngest son breathing shook the man more than anything ever had._

John approached the hospital bed. Sam was ghostly pale and if John didn't know any better he would have assumed he was already dead. The constant beeping of the heart monitor told him otherwise. Just to make sure John placed his hand on Sam's upper arm where the white cast ended. He was unnaturally cold and it sent an odd shiver up John's spine.

"Hey Sammy," He whispered. He watched Sam's chest rise up and down mechanically. He wasn't sure what to say, but he heard somewhere that sometimes people in comas could tell when people were talking to them, and recognize voices. Sam wasn't in a coma though but he thought he would try anyhow. There was another reason he didn't know what to say. His mind drifted to the shouting match that took place that morning. John had not meant to get as mad as he did. He always ended up yelling a Sammy.

"Excuse me sir," John whipped his head to the doorway. There stood a doctor. "Only Family are aloud in ICU." He said stepping forward.

"John Winchester, Sammy is my son." John said roughly eyeing the younger doctor.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm Sam's doctor. Nice to meet you." He said holding out his hand.

"Nice isn't the word." John said glaring at his hand rather than shaking it. "Now please tell me why the hell my son is in that hospital bed." John said trying his best to keep temper under control. John stood there and took in everything the Doctor told him. It made more sense now that he knew the entire story.

The Doctor told about Dean too. The doctor, Dr. O was his name had talked to the police. They said that Dean was really lucky, the steering wheel kept him from going though the window just like Sam. John just stood there with a hard look on his face taking it all in. Dr. O said something about checking up on his other patients and left the room.

Dean wasn't feeling to well. His head really hurt, it especially throbbed under the bandage. He thought of asking a nurse or that one doctor that he couldn't remember the name of for some aspirin or something but that would mean getting up and he was really tired. How long had it been since they got here anyway?

"Dean?" Dean jumped looking up at his father. John looked over his unsteady son. "I left my phone in the car, I'm going to get it so I can call Pastor Jim and tell him that I can't take the job." John said. Dean swallowed thickly but his voice didn't want to work so he simply nodded instead. He watched as his father started toward the elevator. John looked back at his oldest son before he stepped into the elevator.

"_If Dad hadn't been so preoccupied with you he could've saved Mom!"_

He couldn't get the look on Sammy's face after he said that. How could he say that? It was not true. It could never be true. Dean knew that their mother had already been dead when the fire started. There was nothing that could save her. He had just been so mad.

What if that was the last thing he ever said to Sam? He shook his head ridding that thought from his mind. No he couldn't think like that. Sam was going to be fine.

Sam was going to be fine

Was going to be fine

Fine

Fine

He was going to be fine.

At this rate he was going to drive himself crazy. Dean knew that he had to go to see Sammy.

Dean leaned against the doorframe of room 209. The painted metal was cool on the side of his face. His eyes were closed. Slowly he opened them staring into the occupied hospital room. Everything in the room was a blinding white and had the same disinfectant smell of the rest of the hospital.

The only real color in the room was Sam's brown mess of hair. His skin was almost as white as the sheets. Dean couldn't make his legs move. He had a sudden thought. What if Sam didn't want to see him? After throwing such a low and harsh remark like that Sam would probably hate him.

"_If Dad hadn't been so preoccupied with you he could've saved Mom!"_

His own voice echoed though his head again. Maybe the concussion was making him delusional. He sure hoped that was the problem. Maybe he got hit in the head during a hunt and he was really sharing a motel bed with Sam while their father took the other one to himself. Maybe this was all a dream.

Dean knew better. This wasn't a dream. He didn't really have dreams and if he did he couldn't remember them. Dreams were more of Sam's thing. He drew his gaze away form the room. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go into that room when he knew it was his fault they were here. Sam wouldn't want to see him he concluded.

Dean sat on the floor outside the room drawing his knees up so he wouldn't trip anyone. There sure were many people rushing around in this place. Dean always thought of hospitals as quiet with that strange sense of pity and sadness in the air. This hospital wasn't like that at all. He closed his eyes as doctors ran past him along side a gurney. They were yelling out medical terms he did not understand. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what they were talking about, his stomach was rolling enough already.

He couldn't make up his mind. He had gotten up about three or four times tying to decide if he should enter the room. Finally on the fifth time of fighting with himself inside his head he couldn't take it anymore and stepped into the room. He kept his head down with his eyes focused on his feet. He cleared his throat.

"Hey Sammy," He whispered. "I . . . I know you probably don't want to see me or anything but I just had to . . ." Dean trailed off. 'Just look up!' Dean commanded himself, but his brain didn't want to listen. He couldn't understand why he couldn't make his head move. He already knew what Sam looked like lying in that hospital bed. In fact Dean knew what Sam looked like lying in many hospitals beds.

He could see Sammy lying in a hospital bed at the age of eight when he busted his choler bone when a werewolf ripped him from the Impala tossed him like a rag doll into a tree. He was suppose to hide there while Dean and their father were hunting it. They had no idea that there was more than one. Dean remembered how Sam screamed for him and Dad. It wasn't an _I'm hurt and scared_ scream. It was a _hurry and kill it before it gets away _scream. Sam didn't even mention his shoulder until John patted his back for doing a good job.

At the hospital he didn't even cry out when they set the bone. Sam was laughing and smiling by the time the doctor was finished. Dean smiled at the memory. That was the last time John took Sam anywhere near where they were hunting.

He could look at Sammy then, so why couldn't he do it now? _'Suck it_ _up Winchester' _He told himself. His time his brain listened and he glanced up. Sam looked the same as he did when he saw him before with the doctor. His face was as pale as the pillowcase. The ventilator hooked and heart monitor beeped steadily. The constant noise made Dean's head hurt and he felt his headache returning.

"You're really scaring me kiddo," Dean muttered moving closer. He rested his hand on Sam's arm. It was unusually cold. After a couple minutes Dean pulled up a plastic chair form the other side of the room. Dean quickly wiped the wetness from his eyes. "If you can here me," Dean said putting his hand in Sam's. "If you can hear me just move a finger or somthin." Dean waited and after several minutes Dean lowered his head when nothing happened. "Please, Sammy, Please." He muttered as silent tears ran down his face.

TBC . .


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone sincerely for reviewing and to all of you for reading and being so extremely kind. **

**Also I would like to apologize for the slight delay in this chapter, I was too busy having a HEART ATTACK after Sam got STABBED! Please excuse while I pass out. **

**Even though it's a little late This one goes out for mothers day, starting with a cute Wee!chesters flashback. Enjoy.**

"_If you can here me," Dean said putting his hand in Sam's. "If you can hear me just move a finger or somthin." Dean waited and after several minutes Dean lowered his head when nothing happened. "Please, Sammy, Please." He muttered as silent tears ran down his face_

**11 seconds **

**Chapter 6**

_"Hey Dean you awake?" 9-year-old Sam asked to the other bed on the opposite side of the room._

_"No." fourteen-year-old Dean moaned._

_"Yes you are. If you weren't you wouldn't be talking." Sam said._

_"Go to sleep Sammy." Dean grumbled. He heard his little brother sigh._

_"I'm not tired." Sam whined._

_"Well I am, so go to sleep." Dean said. He wasn't in the mood for this. Dean knew that Sam was still sitting up in bed. After several minutes Dean gave in and rolled over to face him in the darkness. "What is it Sammy?" He asked._

_"Never mind I don't want you to be mad at me." Sam said lowering his head. Dean sat up swinging his feet over the side of his single bed._

_"Sammy what is it? Come on I won't be mad." Sam looked up with that puppy-dog look he's was so good at._

_" . . . Do you remember Mommy?" Sam asked in a small voice. Dean's eyes immediately focused on his hands in his lap. "I knew it," Sam said. "I knew I would make you mad." He said sadly._

_"No Sammy, I'm not mad." Dean said. "Yeah I remember her a little, why do you ask?" He said trying his best to keep his voice form cracking._

_"Because everyone else remembers and I thought that I should too, but I don't. I can't remember anything." Sam said sniffling. "Yesterday our class made presents for our moms for mothers day except I don't have one but I didn't want to tell the teacher. She kept asking me why." Sam was crying now. Dean got off his bed and went over to sit next to Sam._

_"Is that why you were sent to the office?" Dean asked. Sam nodded._

_"She wouldn't leave me alone so I told her to piss off." He said. Dean couldn't help himself and chuckled. After all Sam probably learned that term form spending to much time with his older brother_

_"That's my brother." He said lightly punching him in the shoulder. Sam couldn't help but smiling at that_.

When John re-entered the hospital room he found Dean in a plastic chair pulled right up to the bed. He was asleep with his head lying next to Sam's arm. John sighed setting the extra cup of coffee he had gotten for the boy on the nightstand next to where he was sleeping.

He then noticed that Dean's hand was resting on top of Sam's. How could he let this happen? He knew that roads were dangerous today. Well technically it was yesterday now that they were into the early hours of the morning. Dean's hunter senses weren't completely gone because he popped an eye open slowly when sensing someone else in the room.

He lifted his head slowly rubbing his eyes. Neither said anything. Dean discovered the coffee and was downing it as quickly as possible. John wasn't sure how he drank it so fast because it was scalding hot but Dean didn't seem to notice or care.

"Dean." Dean looked over to him. John had thought of what he was going to say, but his mind went blank as soon as seeing Dean's puffy hazel eyes. John sighed. "Dean this isn't your fault." He said finally. The hurt puppy look in Dean's eyes disappeared immediately.

"How would you know, you weren't there." He choked in a hoarse voice. Dean's voice showed anger but he wasn't angry with his father. He was angry with himself.

"Dean," John said again this time in a softer tone. John was at a loss for words. What had happened to all those things he had planned on saying? Everyone knew that John Winchester was not so good with the comforting thing. Everyone including Dean. John noticed that Dean kept glancing over at Sam every few seconds. Say something! He yelled silently to himself Say anything!

"I called Jim," He said. That was not what he was going for. How would knowing that he called Pastor Jim make Dean feel better? "Told him I wouldn't be able to take the job, He said he wanted to come down if that's alright," He asked.

"Yeah," Dean said looking at the floor. "Sammy would like that." He stated.

"Dean this is not your fault" John said feeling like a broken record player.

"You weren't there!" Dean said angrily with tears in his eyes. "If I hadn't been yelling at him, if I had been paying more attention to the road, none of this would have happened!" Dean screamed. He broke down with tears overflowing. "It's not fair," He said in a small voice. "Why does Sammy always get hurt?" John didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could think ok. It was something he couldn't really remember doing since Mary died. He hugged his eldest son.

"It's ok son," John whispered. He could hear Dean's muffled sobs. John then did something else he rarely did. He Prayed. He prayed to god that Sammy would be all right. John knew that if he lost one son, he lost them both. If Sam went Dean would be gone too. There would be nothing left of his family. Not that there was very much of it left now.

Dean calmed down and backed away focusing on the ground clearly ashamed of his lack of control of his emotions. John cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He went over to the plastic table in the corner to take a sip of his coffee. Dean remained where he was still staring at the ground.

They remained in the room for a long while in silence, only looking up when the doctor came in every so often to check on Sam.

"Everything looks good." Dr. O said jotting a few notes down on his clipboard. He left the room and Dean's head fell to the floor hearing nothing about Sam waking up.

"It'll take time son," John said speaking for the first time since Dean's breakdown. Dean nodded in response.

Finally John couldn't stand the silence and muttered something about needing some air. John Winchester wasn't a talkative guy, so it takes a lot before he can't stand it. It really got to him this time because there wasn't anything to say. Sam was hurt, he was hurt bad. He didn't think anything he said would make Dean feel better. The only think that could heal Dean right now was Sam and Sam was heavily medicated lying on a hospital bed.

Dean kept Sam hand in his whispering to his little brother quietly. So quietly that if someone walked in the room they wouldn't hear him. Dean didn't want anyone else to hear him because he was doing something Dean Winchester rarely did. He was begging, begging for Sam to wake up, move a finger, anything. He would take anything. When nothing happened he didn't give up like last time, he kept at it.

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Sam's finger move form underneath his hand. What if he was imagining things? His head didn't hurt as much but he was still really tired. He used his other hand to clear the hair form Sam's forehead.

"Sammy, come on, open your eyes." He said in a pleading voice as he got up put of the hard plastic chair. He leaned in close to his brother's face. Sam started choking and it startled Dean so much that he stumbled backward colliding with the chair and landing flat on his back.

He jumped to his feet. Sam's eyes were wide and frantic. Dean realized that he was choking on the tube in his throat. He quickly placed his hand on Sam forehead.

"It's ok Sammy, It's ok let it breath for you. Relax." Dean whispered. Sam seemed to listen to Dean and relaxed a little. He closed his eyes again and Dean didn't dare move his hand away. After a minute Sam's eyes opened again looking very glazed and feverish

but Dean didn't care. Sam was awake

He was awake

He was alive.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Previously: **_

Sam's eyes were wide and frantic. Dean realized that he was choking on the tube in his throat. He quickly placed his hand on Sam forehead.

Sam was awake.

**11 Seconds**

**Chapter 7**

Dean told him everything was going to be ok. That was something Dean told him when something was wrong. Like when they were younger their Dad was on a hunt and didn't come home on the day he said he would Dean told him everything was going to be ok. Something was wrong. The only problem was Sam couldn't think of what it was. Maybe he would be able to figure it out once his head stopped pounding.

Sam wanted to ask him what was wrong but there was something wrong with this throat. It felt like someone was forcing his breath in and out. When he tried to make it stop he broke out in a fit of coughing which was hard because he wasn't able to cough either.

"It's ok let it breath for you," Dean said again.

Dean yelled for help but didn't take his eyes off Sam for even one second. Sam was giving Dean that look again. The "someone just kicked my puppy" look. It was the look that got Sam whatever he wanted. The look that made Dean always give Sam the last of the lucky charms. It was the look Sam gave Dean when John said Sam couldn't go on a hunt because it was too dangerous. The look that made Dean let Sam have the TV remote. It was the Sam look.

Sam was giving Dean the look and Dean couldn't do anything to make it better. Lucky Charms wouldn't make the look go away this time. There was something in Sam's eyes that wasn't there all the other times he looked at Dean like that. Pain. Sam was in pain. Dean yelled again. Where were all the freakin' doctors in this place!

Dean felt moisture under his hand that still remained on Sam's forehead. He wasn't sure if it was him or Sam that was sweating. He was pretty sure it was a mixture of both but for the life of him he wouldn't let go.

Sam was never leaving his sight again.

Dean didn't notice the doctors entering until they forced him out of the way. For a minute Dean was lost from shock but he came to his senses. He couldn't see Sam anymore because of the flock of nurses and Doctors that now surrounded his bed. He didn't like doctors. They always wore white and pretended they cared about the patients when all they really wanted was that big fat paycheck.

Sam was never leaving his sight again.

Never again.

_**Never **_again.

Dean was just pushed back again when he tried to step foreword. He needed to be closer to Sam. His Little brother needed him.

"Sir stay back or I'll have to ask you to wait outside." One of the nurses said. That's the last thing Dean wanted.

The Doctors were yelling out medical terms that Dean didn't understand. He wished that he paid more attention in health class then maybe he'd know what they were saying. For all he knew they could be saying that Sam was dying. Dean would know if he were dead though because the constant beeping of the heart monitor would turn to a high pitched squeal.

Dead?

Dean hadn't thought of that. Now that word would haunt him too. What if Sam died? Was Sam going to die? No Sam was awake he was going to be fine Dean reassured himself. He could be wrong. Sam could die.

Sam could die.

Dean pictured Sam in a casket and his stomach did a flip. He might be seeing that coffee again.

Dean's head began to hurt again. Not like before this time it really hurt. Dean brought his hand to his head over the bandage. It felt like someone was banging his head with a baseball bat with a little jack hammering on the side. He brought his hand back down. It was covered in blood. 'Great I tore the stitches' Dean thought. It wasn't that big of a deal. He was still trying listening to the doctors with one ear but had to stop when he started seeing spots.

He remembered kneeling in the snow next to Sammy in the headlights of the Impala blinding him. He remembered holding up his hand and finding Sam's blood. His little brother's blood. Who decided to spin the room? Dean didn't like it. It only made his head hurt more. Someone must have turned up the heat too. Didn't they usually keep hospitals cold? The room spun faster and Dean's knees buckle. He went down hitting the cold tile floor with a thud.

**A/N: There you go a little Dean angst. Someone mentioned that and I thought why not? Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I promise another update really soon, I'm already working on the next chapter. Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N again sorry it took so long to update but with the start of school and everything I was busy. anyway here you go chapter 8 hope you like it. You'll be happy to heat this is my longest chapter ever! Enjoy and review!**

**Previously: **He brought his hand back down. It was covered in blood.

The room spun faster and Dean's knees buckle. He went down hitting the cold tile floor with a thud.

**11 seconds **

**Chapter 8**

"Dean, son wake up." Dean wished the person shaking his arm would just go away. He already graduated high school why couldn't he sleep in every now and again. "Dean wake up!" It was the voice John used to give orders. Dean groaned. This was definitely an aspirin day but Dean was raised to follow orders so he slowly opened his eyes.

"Ah god, what happened?" Dean said bringing his hand to his head but John slapped his hand away.

"You fainted." John said firmly.

"You make me sound like such a girl." Dean grumbled. He looked around realizing where he was. They were in a small hospital room. John was standing next to the bed that Dean was laying on. That's when everything hit him. "Sammy!" He said sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed. John stepped forward pushing him back down. "Dad Sammy's awake! We gotta go see him!" Dean said confused.

"You're not going anywhere until that doctor checks you over again," John said.

"But dad," Dean started.

"No buts Dean, you collapsed and you're not going anywhere until we get you checked so sit down and stay there. That's an order." For the first time Dean didn't want to be the good solider. He didn't want to take his father's orders without questions. He wanted to talk back, say something, anything that would make his father let him go see Sammy. He wanted Sammy.

"Dad Sammy's awake and you want me just to sit here!" Dean argued.

"Yes that's exactly what I want you to do!" John said.

"What's wrong with you! Your son is in the hospital hurt and you won't go and see him!" Dean knew that wasn't true. That could never be true. The Winchesters weren't exactly the Tanners from full house. The Winchesters didn't go around hugging each other every time they left the room but if anyone ever said that John Winchester didn't care about his kids they were in for a serious beating.

"_Both_ of my sons are in the hospital hurt!" John screamed. "So you are going to sit there and be quiet until the doctor comes in here and says that you're ok!"

Dean was shocked.

They were silent until the doctor came in. "Now follow the light with your eyes," Dr. O said waving a small flashlight in front of Dean's eyes.

"What's wrong with him, why'd he pass out." John said in a rough voice.

"I can't be sure," Doctor O said straightening up. "Mr. Winchester if we could step outside for a moment . . ." Dr. O said obviously avoiding making eye contact with Dean.

"What?" John said once they were out in the hallway.

"Your son," He started.

"I have two sons, you'll have to clarify" John said gritting his teeth.

"Dean," Dr. O corrected. "The reason he collapsed wasn't due to just physical injuries."

"What are you saying?"

"Physical injuries had a big part of it of course, but the other main factor was stress and . . ."

"And what!" John said very close to losing his temper.

"Your son experienced a small panic attack." Dr. O said obviously intimidated by the much taller and stronger John Winchester. A look of surprise crossed John's face. It was only there for a second before disappearing. He motioned for the doctor to go on. "Now luckily it was on the small scale nothing critically serious. These attacks are usually triggered by something and Dean collapsed only after his stitches tore."

"What are you saying?" John said.

"I think the attack was triggered by his blood."

"That doesn't make any sense." John said quickly. Dr. O gave him a questioning look. "Dean's seen his own blood before with all the scraps he got falling off that bike of his when he was little," he conjured up off the top of his head making Dean seen like any other little kid.

"Not since the accident." Dr. O said rubbing his chin in the thinking motion. "He hasn't seen any blood since he was with his brother at the crash sight."

Then it all made sense. Dean didn't pass out because he saw his blood. He passed out because he saw Sam's at least that's what his imagination saw.

"Mr. Winchester this is something that your son will not soon forget, I know the signs of trauma and I suggest that Dean see a professional to talk about what happened." Johns mouth was open but he couldn't think of anything to say. "If you'll excuse me I'll see how Sam is doing."

When Dr. O re-entered the hospital room that contained the two oldest Winchesters any conversation between the two ceased immediately. Dean was sitting on the bed with his legs hanging over the side and John was sitting in the only chair in the corner of the room. "How is he doc, how's Sammy?" Dean said jumping up.

"Better," Dean sighed with relief. "Not good, but better" He added. "He's breathing on his own now and the surgery seemed to have repaired most of the damage but his injuries are still serious."

"Is he awake? Can we see him?" Dean asked. John didn't speak; he seemed to be absorbing the doctor's words.

"You have to understand, Sam is heavily medicated and even if he is awake he might not be coherent. He'll tire easily." That really didn't answer Dean's question.

"When can we see him," John said using that military voice that made people take him seriously. Dean wished he could talk like that so everyone here wouldn't just think of him as 19-year-old kid.

"Now if you like, just remember what I said."

'Dr. Ovanteliamino you're needed at the front desk' said a voice overhead. 

"If you'll excuse me," Dr. O said making his was out of the room.

"You Ok" John asked before Dean could bolt out the door.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Dean said. John could tell he wasn't paying attention. At this moment Dean would say anything just so he could see Sammy.

"Do you have a headache?" He tried again.

"No," Dean said quickly "Can we go now?" John sighed. He wasn't going to get a straight answer from Dean until they saw Sammy.

John entered Sam's room heading straight over to the side of the bed. Dean however stayed behind lingering uncomfortably at the doorway. John placed his hand on his youngest son's forehead. "Hey Sammy," He said quietly. Sam's head moved in the direction of the sound of his voice but his eyes did not open. "Sammy?" John said again.

"Dean?" There were few things that could phase John Winchester, and this was one of them. He looked away brief with a look of pain and discomfort on his face. To know that Sam has been a step form death and the first name he called out was that of his brother made John have a painful ache in his chest. John had given up his youngest son the night he handed him to four-year-old Dean during night of the fire.

"Take Sammy outside, now Dean GO!" 

John lost count of how many of Sammy's birthday's and school play's he'd missed over the year. He restrained himself from thinking about things like that. Dean was the one who put a Band-Aid on little Sammy's knee when he scraped it playing outside. Dean was the one Sam turned to with his problems. It was always Sam and Dean never one without the other. "Dean's here." John said in a softer voice.

John looked over at Dean who was practically plastered to the doorframe. He seemed excited to see Sammy a few minutes ago. There was obviously something going on that John still didn't know about. Slowly Sam's eyelids rose about half a centimeter squinting against the bright overhead lights. That sliver of hazel might as well be the most beautiful thing John had ever seen. It took a second for Sam's eyes to focus and he shifted his head to look to the side.

"Dad?" He said slowly like he had forgotten how to talk. "Is the hunt over?"

"Yeah son the hunt is over." John said softly. He could careless about the hunt now.

"Did ya get em?" Sam's voice was Horace.

"Like hell I did." John said. Sam Half smiled before wincing and bringing the hand with the IV in it to his stomach. "Sammy there was an accident. John said slowly. Sam shifted his half open eyed back to his father. "You and your brother were in an a car accident." Sam's eyes went wide looking around frantically.

"Dean! Where's Dean is he ok!" he said in a panic. Sam attempted to sit up only to fall flat on his back again hissing in pain.

"It's ok Sammy, I'm ok." Dean said quietly from the doorway. Dean couldn't bring himself to look Sam in the eye so he took to staring off to the side. How could Sam be worried about him after what Dean had said to him? How could he even start to make it up to Sam? Refusing to drive was a start. He would go to the police department and demand that they take away his license and never to give it back again. That way Sam would never have to get in a car with him. Not that he would ever want to now.

Dean would take the couch in the living room so Sam would have the crammed bedroom to himself. And Dean would be ok if Sam never wanted to talk to him again. That's a start Dean thought. Dean snapped out of his thoughts and found John staring at him.

"I'm gonna find the doctor and make sure everything in order." John said adjusting the collar of his jacket and with that he headed straight out of the room. Sam was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

_Smooth_ Dad Dean thought. He took a deep breath taking a step toward his brother. He was ready. Sam would start yelling at him, or maybe he wouldn't want to talk to him at all. Dean was fine with either.

"Sammy . . ."

"Your head." Came Sam's thick voice. Dean was confused. Sam coughed wincing slightly. He didn't have the energy to speak in complete sentences. "You Ok?"

Dean was shocked. Sam shouldn't be worrying about the bandage on Dean's forehead. Sam should be yelling and screaming. Sam should be refusing to ever talk to Dean again.

"Sammy" Dean lowered his head to rest on the side of Sam's bed and couldn't stop the tears from coming. He was really going soft.


End file.
